


With friends like these

by nava



Series: falling and fumbling [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Inappropriate Humor, Non-Canon Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-08-08
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7711165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nava/pseuds/nava
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herah should've known better than to think that her private matters would actually remain private. </p><p>The group has some thoughts about her relationship with Solas, none of it actually helpful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With friends like these

**Author's Note:**

> just because everyone in DA is a gossip if you romance anyone ever. and I did say I'd write more about this rarepair

She was unprepared when it happened, but she should have known better. 

“You're less elfy than I thought. Thought you’d only get it up for someone with pointy ears who went barefoot.” Sera blurted. 

“Excuse me?” Solas asked. 

“When you're giving it to her, cuz you must be since she's all smiles and you don’t go on about demons or whatever as much, do you hold on to her horns?”

“ _ Excuse me _ ?”

“Bet you dirty-talk to her about the elven empire the whole time too.”

“ _ Fenedhis lasa _ .” 

Iron Bull cackled loudly and Dorian leaned against him while he laughed with one hand clapped over his mouth. 

Herah contemplated her survival chances if she just flung herself over the cliff. Knowing her luck, she’d survive but with broken bones and Sera would just have more material for jokes. 

“ELVEN GLORY!” Sera shouted and made lewd gestures with her bow. Solas snarled another string of elvish expletives at her.

Iron Bull went to his knees in laughter: “Stop, stop I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe. Ahahahaha!” 

Herah dearly prayed that a dragon would just land on top of them already. 

 

 

 

“Ugh. You're staring at him all mushy again.” Sera whined. 

Herah coughed and broke her trance-like stare she had directed at Solas to turn to the rogue at her side. “It's not a mushy stare.” She defended. 

Sera paused and then stuck her tongue out. “It's a dirty stare then.” 

Herah spluttered. “It is  _ not.”  _ That was possibly a lie. She'd been gazing at the sharp angle of his jaw meeting his ear, remembering their previous tumble in the bed when she'd found that tugging at his earlobe with careful teeth made his gaze go dark. Her daydreaming hadn't been dirty, per se, but it had been leading up to it. 

Still, to have Sera basically shout it out in front of the group was rather flustering. 

Iron Bull chuckled and Dorian raised a set of judgemental eyebrows at her. Solas hid a small smile behind his fist.  _ Wonderful, lovely help there darling _ . Her inner thoughts directed at Solas sounded suspiciously like Vivienne in a tiff. 

Sera snorted and giggled loudly. “You so were! Ew. You with your pffwoah and baldy elfy over there with his Fade tingling pish - can't imagine it. It's like a goat and a nug going at it, yeah?”

Herah, although her mouth momentarily dropped open, recovered enough to ask: “Am I the nug or the goat?” No, no, no, she was supposed to get control over the conversation not flop into it. 

Sera’s giggling reached a new octave. “Always asking the important questions, yeah?” 

“Nah it’s more like a hart and a deer.” Iron Bull interjected, calm but amused. “Deer, since Solas is the elf.” He gestured to Herah. “And the hart. You know, since the hart is bigger than the deer.”

“Hehehe, deer would really have to stretch to reach. Ugh. I don't want to imagine it.” Sera scrunched her nose. 

“And neither, I think, does the Inquisitor. I’m afraid what with all the heat pouring off her face, her horns may actually fall off and then what will our favorite hobo apostate have to hold on to?” Dorian buffed his nails on his coat nonchalantly. Solas’ face darkened and he opened his mouth, likely to make some volatile and devastating remark.

The ground abruptly shook.

“Oh look, a giant!” Herah pointed at their obvious enemy, relieved. It was a strangely, suspiciously positive reaction compared to all the other times when she’d spotted a giant and would often immediately run in the other direction to find cover and dole out spellwork from behind it. 

 

 

 

“I have to say I’m actually surprised, Solas.” Iron Bull mentioned. 

“Oh?” 

“You and the boss. Didn’t think you liked them tall and gorgeous and... _ horny.”  _ Iron Bull grinned expectantly. 

“As much a surprise as your own relationship with a walking waxed mustache clad in what I can assume are only buckles.” Solas allowed. 

“Oh-ho! He has some bite. I’d tell the boss to watch out but she probably already knows.” Iron Bull laughed.  

“We all have our burdens, although I suppose you just tie yours up and drag them along.” 

Herah slumped against a tree. “This is the worst group outing ever.” 

Dorian wasn’t sympathetic. “I agree. This is all your fault. If you’d just let everyone pick through your dirty laundry, they wouldn’t be using mine as part of some bizarre pissing contest.” 

Herah gave him a narrow eyed look. “I don’t see why everyone finds my relationship so amusing. You and Bull are like old dowagers all the time; gossiping and insulting each other but no one says anything. Except Cole but he can’t help that. And Varric, but I’m fairly certain he’s writing a saga about all of us. But suddenly Solas and I start having together-time and everyone wants to stick their nose in it or make fun of it.” She wasn’t really sulking. She was just annoyed. Really. 

Dorian raised an eyebrow at her. “Yes but you’re a qunari and he’s an elf.” 

“Oh for - please. You’re human and Bull is qunari.” 

“Yes. But we’re both men so naturally it makes it look less unlikely and romantic.” 

“What? He’s qunari, only recently tal-vashoth and you’re a mage. _ From Tevinter _ . How - how is that not a star-crossed romance?” she gestured in the direction of where both of their partners were still throwing vague, mostly playful insults at one another. 

“Oh my. You’ve been reading Cassandra’s poorly hidden drivel I see. But nevermind your bad taste in literature, it’s just that you rarely see qunari women with anyone other than another qunari.” 

Ignoring Dorian’s jab at her literature taste, she frowned. “That’s not true. Qunari women look outside of other qunari; dwarves, elves, humans. Granted most of those couples are same sex, but that’s only due to the outside social construct that women can only be desirable to men if they’re somehow shorter or smaller or helpless in some way.” 

“Exactly!” Dorian pointed a finger at her, then at Solas. “But that’s not an issue with you two, now is it?” 

Herah blinked. “No…?” 

“No, it isn’t. Insofar as it goes, I rather think the romance you’ve got going on right now is ignoring walls that probably shouldn’t be there. Not quite star-crossed, but definitely rebelling against - what did you call it? Social constructs? How deliciously deviant.” 

“It isn’t deviant. No part of our relationship is deviant.” She insisted. 

“So he  _ doesn’t  _ hold on to your horns during sex?” Dorian asked doubtfully. 

Herah looked away and tugged at the sleeve of her coat. 

“I thought so.” Dorian said victoriously. “ _ Deviants.” _

In a tree, above them, Sera added: “ _ Ewww _ .”

 

 

 

The trip back to Skyhold was mostly uneventful. Herah had managed resisting throwing herself into the closest rift possible, world be damned, Solas didn’t set anyone on fire and managed, apart from scathing remarks towards Sera, to keep his calm. Dorian and Bull had let the topic drop when Herah had loudly enquired about whether Cullen would meet either of their eyes since he’d caught them that once on the battlements. 

Once there, Varric had pulled her aside and foolishly, trustingly, Herah had followed. 

“So, is this only a physical thing? Or is it a real relationship with feelings and emotion. Come on, you can tell your favorite storyteller.” Varric spread his arms wide as if to accept her wholeheartedly. 

Sitting uncomfortably, near squatting, on a dwarf-sized stool with her elbow uncomfortably jammed on a human sized table, Herah glared. “Are you serious?” 

“Well, technically  _ I’m  _ asking you if you’re serious.” He folded his arms. “No one really thought it would get this far. Except Cassandra, but she’s a romantic and likes imagining that all the people around her are in a romance somehow. So, spill. I need details otherwise, you know I’ll just make them up.” 

With her hands on her knees, and most of her not fitting on the stool, she leaned forward as menacingly as she could without falling off. “You know, this is a private matter, Varric.” 

The dwarf gave her a long look. “It started at the Winter Palace, you said? Hiding in the royal wing having a time of it? But  _ Inquisitor _ , that was under construction.” He said with faux shock. 

“Oh you’re just the worst.” 

“Not the trophy room, too!” 

“Ugh.” Herah sat back. “It sort of just built up slowly, there was no - no sudden explosion of anything terribly romantic.” That was entirely a lie. Herah felt no shame about that. And no one - besides Leliana and Josephine - needed to know about the incident with her draperies. Certainly not Varric. 

“Uh-huh. But judging from the look on your face, it was definitely a private sort of conversation.” 

“All of this should be private.” She grumbled. 

Varric’s good cheer melted away some. “Can’t say the two of you don’t make a good couple, weird as it is, I’ve seen weirder but...I mean. Are you sure?” 

She blinked at the concern in his voice. “Sure about what? Him?” 

“I like Chuckles. He’s good people, but he’s a mage with some strong opinions and I get the feeling he’s been around the town more than once. I knew a guy like that and it didn’t turn out well.” Varric leaned against the mantle of the fireplace. “I just want to say I’m happy for you, but just, well be careful.” 

“Well, thanks Varric. And I’ll try to. But it’s Solas. I don’t think he’ll turn out quite as extreme as that, he hates conflict.” 

“Sure. But, see I thought that same thing about Blondie since when I first met him he was sort of like a crabby old cat lady. I’ve never been more wrong.” 

 

 

 

Besides a congratulations from Blackwall and a snide, posh sort of comment from Vivienne that didn’t sink in until later, no one else said anything. Her advisors kept their peace although the rumors circulating Skyhold ranged from: 

“I was hoping to have a noble scandal. Perhaps with the Commander, oh my that would have been so exciting.” 

Or, “Well that’s disappointing, there won’t be any wedding.” 

To the ever present: “What happens if they breed?”

The last one was always said with an air of incredulity as if someone were trying to cross a horse with a mabari. 

Cassandra cornered her one day, a small smile on her face with the pleased look of having successfully won a fort from an enemy. “I knew it.” She said. 

Herah set her book aside - a technical manual from Tevinter about using fire based magic - and said: “Um?” 

“I knew you and Solas would eventually end up this way.” She scowled briefly. “Although it took you both long enough.” She said accusingly. 

Caught off guard, Herah said, “Right. Sorry.” 

Cassandra hummed. “Still. I knew it was inevitable. True romance always is. Like with Iron Bull and Dorian. It brings hope, to see people find love in such times.” She met Herah’s gaze squarely. “You, of all people, deserve some measure of comfort.” 

The vashoth smiled slowly. “Some people are a bit peeved that I have any time for a relationship.” 

The Seeker sniffed dismissively. “And I imagine that if you had no such relationship, they would have blamed it on your heritage, saying that qunari cannot know love.” 

Herah sat back in her chair. “You always know just what to say.” 

Cassandra barked out a single laugh. “I think Solas is the one who always knows just what to say.” 

 

 

 

“Sometimes, all the sadness is gone, pulled from a hook and cast somewhere far away and all he sees, all he feels is warmth and sunshine. He’s happier with you but he feels guilty, sad, seeing and knowing more but not allowed more and he thinks he’s being selfish for it all.” 

Herah choked on the cookie she’d been indulging in. Cole helpfully, awkwardly, patted her on the back. 

“Hello Cole.” She finally rasped out. He’d come out of nowhere.

He perched on the kitchen table in front of her, where her mostly stolen spoils were cluttered. He looked at her soulfully. “He thinks it’s selfish but it isn’t since you give and take too.” He waited for a moment. “He doesn’t want to hurt you, but he thinks he will anyway even if you don’t believe it. Words stick in his throat, powerless, hopeless, helpless, everything he never knew he wanted but got and can’t have. I want to help but I don’t know how. He won’t let me. So, I’ll say it now in case he doesn’t get to.” Cole leaned in and pressed his forehead to hers, floppy hat shoved up her horns and hair. “ _ Ir abelas, ma vhen’an. Mala suledin nadas. _ ” 

Herah, wide eyed and completely confused, opened her mouth to ask: “What?” But Cole had slipped away during the time it took her to get her wits together and blink. 

 

 

 

“So far, I have had to endure Dorian’s comments from above along with any input from Varric across the way. And occasionally Vivienne will send down a scathing remark or letter about how I’m ruining you.” Solas said calmly. 

From her place between his legs while he obligingly used a leather strap covered in fine grained sand to painstakingly smooth the rough spots on her horns, Herah grunted. Her eyes were closed and she was naked and essentially boneless, legs folded beneath her while Solas sat on the end of her, their, bed and brushed away the leavings from her horns from her hair and shoulders. “Cassandra came over to tell me we took too long.” She said and Solas chuckled. “And Varric gave me his version of the talk about you.” 

“His version?” 

“Mmm. Don’t stop.” The leather strap grated over the bottom of her horns and relieved some of the pressure built up there. “Mostly how he wanted details about how what happened where and then he warned me to be careful of you.” She smiled and raised her brows. “He compared you to Anders, I think.” 

The strap stopped moving entirely and she felt pressure on the top of her head. “Solas?” 

She tilted her head up and opened her eyes, realizing Solas was pressing his lips to the crown of her head. “Solas?” 

“I did say people would talk.” He said quietly. 

“Oh well, just hush. He said he was happy for us.” As much as she disliked the idea of contorting her body out of the incredibly comfortably position she found herself in, she slid away slightly and twisted to look at him properly. She rested her forehead against him. “He’s just being a good, if overprotective and nosy, friend. Stop being so grim. Contrary to popular belief, women don’t always want the brooding type all the time.” 

“I am grim and I do brood. That hasn’t stopped you from jumping into bed with me.” He corrected with a soft smile. 

“Mmm - well, I suppose I just fancy  _ your  _ brand of brooding and grimness. Lucky you.” She pressed her forehead against his with more pressure. “Kadan.” 

“Vhen’an.” He returned. The moment stretched, just the two of them leaning into each other without moving any further. “The oil you’ve had me rub on your horns is very strong.” 

Which was as close as he would say “unpleasant” to her directly. “How dreadful.” She said flatly. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help me scrub that nonsense off?” 

He smiled a bit indulgently, a bit sadly - she never should have brought up that bit about Varric, he got sad about anything - “You say it as if it were a chore.” 

Herah stood and stretched to her full height, moaning a little when her back popped and she led the way to the tub. The water had long gone lukewarm but Solas merely stuck his hand in and warmed it patiently. 

She thought for a moment of bringing up the strange encounter with Cole and whatever he’d said, most of which she didn’t follow really and the other bits that were elvish and she knew nothing about any elvish beyond a few curses. She had a feeling though, that it would dampen the mood she’d barely salvaged so she kept quiet about it. 

Solas turned and extended a hand to her. She took it with a smile and slid into the tub, barely making room for him. 

He poured water over her shoulders and hair and began lathering soap in his hands, speaking softly to her about the shards found in the Oasis and the hidden elven temple they should investigate. 

**She hummed and leaned back into his hands. She could always ask about it later. **

**Author's Note:**

> elvish: 
> 
> Ir abelas, ma vhen’an. Mala suledin nadas. - I'm sorry my love. And now you must endure.


End file.
